


Nameless

by Comp_Lady



Series: Witch Of The Wilds [1]
Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Gen, M/M, Witch AU, Witchcraft, but it is endgame for the au, only hints at the ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 06:27:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12163344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Comp_Lady/pseuds/Comp_Lady
Summary: George is injured on a remote trip. He is found by an enigmatic and mysterious witch of the wilds.





	Nameless

**Author's Note:**

> A (probably) non-canon piece for a new AU I'm writing that was inspired by Lord OF The Rings

Through the mottled windows George could see a darkness encroaching on the little hut. An inky fog crawling across the grass and wildflowers, ebbing and flowing like something organic. Testing that it's passage is safe, that it is unnoticed. He can’t help but glance worriedly between the window and the witch, who is seemingly unbothered by the encroaching danger. Bent over a collection of crystal vials. He’s not sure whether he should say anything. The air is starting to fill with the sound of static though, filling his ears.

Trees at the edge of the little clearing seem to implode. Collapsing in on themselves with an echoing series of CRACKS.

That’s what gets the witch to look. A casual glance over the shoulder at the entrance, the heavy furs that act as the door ruffling in an artificial wind. 

George can’t discern any change in expression. He looks, he blinks, then turns back to his crystals. Putting the bottles and vials to the side, neat and methodical. He stands, tucking the trailing ends of the thin shawl into his elbows, and plucks a heavy looking dull white crystal off a top shelf. Taking it over to the hearth and setting it in a shallow metal basket above the cold charred logs. He doesn’t add more logs to the pile below, instead he gathers several different bundled herbs and binds them together with his own hair. Murmuring a chant of some sort under his breath as he does so. The jagged cut ends of his hair meld back into the blonde mane as the witch lights the bundle on fire and sets it under the basket. 

“What are you doing?”

Cool blue eyes meet his through a curtain of hair, glinting like a cat’s eyes in the low light. “Reminding it that this is my land.”

“What?”

There’s no answer from the witch. Just the sweep of cloth as he stands and glides to the door, pinning back the furs and stepping just beyond the threshold. George carefully gets to his feet, minding his injuries as he tries to get a better view.

“Leave. You have no power or hold here. This land is mine.”

The darkness surges, coalescing and solidifying and rising up to blot out all light. The wind kicks up into a frenzy, causing the entire place to rattle and shake with the force of it. The witch stands steadfast, unaffected even as his hair flares around him in a halo.

_ “You have no power here!” _

It shrieks, an unholy rattling sound that drives its way into George’s mind like a thousand needles. He flinches back, bumping into the table and clutching his skull. Something is knocked off the table by the motion, but he hardly has the chance to look. It’s taking all his strength to even keep his eyes open to watch the confrontation. 

**_y̢͘o̷̡͠u̶͢͡ ̨͠҉͘҉c͢a̷͢n̢͟҉n͘͘͟͡o̕͏ţ̡͟ ͢͞c͘͢o̢̨m̷m͡͏a̧҉̛n̛͠͠d̴ ̵̨͜͞u̷̡s̢̨͢͝_ **

“I can and I do.”

**_y͝͞ơư̸ ̕c̵̨͝a̛n̨̛̕͝͠ņ̕͜o̷͘͜͝͡t͏̵҉̕ ̨͠͞c̕͠o̶̢͘͜m̴̕͡҉m҉̨a̕͜n҉҉͢҉̴d̵̨͘ ̵̵̵͡u̵͘͟s̶͠_ **

**_҉̵͟҉̵w̵̡̢͠e̴̢ ̴w҉̡̧̢͜i͢͞l͜͜l͟ ̴̢̢h̕͠a̴̷̡͜v҉̡͟e̴ ̴̶͘͞҉ţ̶̡̛h͞ę͠s̨̡e͏̨ ̕͢w̷̡ơ̡͡o̷̴̡̧d̶͜͡s̵̸̨͠_ **

**_͜͡a͠͏͜҉͟n̵͘͞d̡̢ ̸̧͟͟y͢o҉͘͠ur̛͘̕͡ ̢̨̕h̶͠u͠m̛҉̡͡͡ą̶̴̴͟n҉͏̷͟_ **

“You will leave my woods.”

**_W̕͡͞E̶̴͘ ̢̧W̵̨̧̡Į̶L̷̷͟͝Ļ̴͢͡ ̡̢N̴͝͏̶̢O̕͘͝T̛҉̛ ̴̸̛̕͟W̡͢͝E̢̛͟͞͏ ̨͝͠W͝I̛҉̢L̕͢͞L ̶̴͏͟T̴͟A̛͘͜K̴E̸̸ ̷̕T͢͝H͢͜I̵͡S̸͜͝҉̴ ̷̷̡̛͢L̴̨͟͞A̵͢͢͜͡N҉̡͏̛͡D͘͘͘͡͝ ̴͟͡҉W̸̵E̛͠ ҉̸̵̕͜W̵̶̛I̸͠L̵̡̧͟L̴̷͡͠҉ ̵͘͜͏̧F̵͢Ę̢͜͡A̷͟S͞҉̷̕T̵̢̡̛̕_ **

The crystal the witch placed above the fire flares a bright gold, smoke curling after it as it flies to the witch and snaps into his outstretched hand. He holds it in front of himself, the light flaring from it’s center and pushing at the darkness. Forcing it to let out another horrid shriek. The light presses outwards further and further, the witch glows with it.

_ “You have no power or purchase here. Nameless, faceless, this mortal coil is not yours to claim. Return to the void, to the endless nothing that bore you.” _

The shrieking mass twists and convulses before the witch then lunges forward, inky red-black teeth appearing from a jaw that forms from nothing.

A blast of light and force knocks George off his feet, sends the darkness careening into the sky with a final strangled shriek.

The witch adjusts his shawl from where it fell off his shoulders, setting the now dull crystal down on the table before stooping to pull George back up to his feet. Depositing him on the bed as if he weighed no more than a child. He seem unruffled by the entire affairs, as if the dark entity had been a mere solicitor and not some vicious  _ thing _ from another realm come to kill him. George can only watch as he kneels down to pick up the carved wooden bowl and oranges that been knocked to the floor.

“What’s your name?” he blurts out, consumed by a sudden need to know this being that has deigned to care for and house him.

“You may call me what you wish,” they say in the same measured tone. “My human name has been lost to time and memory, it died on the tongue of the last person to speak it.”

“It is still your name and I want to use it, please.”

The witch stares at him, for a long time, and George wishes he could read his expression. Could see what thought flashed behind blue eyes.

“My name was once Benjamin Tallmadge.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Come find me on tumblr](http://comp-lady.tumblr.com)


End file.
